Jailhouse rock

Second biggest fear: I settle for someone not right for me, just so I don’t end up dying alone with a bunch of cats.

First biggest fear: I die alone with a bunch of cats.

However, after my last date (if you can even call it that), getting 75 cats and dying alone looks pretty good.

I’ve known the guy for a while; I met him a couple years ago when I ran into a mutual friend who was having drinks with him. We hit it off from the start from what I can remember, but he had just had a baby, and things weren’t going well with his baby momma, etc. It didn’t go anywhere beyond some Facebook comments here and there.

After him and the kid’s mom broke up, our mutual friend tried to set us up. He was a good looking guy, and I liked his personality, so I agreed. He seemed hesitant though, so I didn’t push it, and eventually just gave up.

After I got laid off, I had an abundance of free time, which I wasn’t used to having. One day, I was pretty bored and decided to message him on Facebook to see if he wanted to meet for drinks. He told me he would message me in a couple hours and let me know. I took it as a no, and went to the nearest Whole Foods to drink $4 rose.

He did end up messaging me a couple hours later, to my surprise, asking where I wanted to meet. I chose a place halfway between where we both live. I’m not really sure what I was expecting to happen that night, but it definitely it wasn’t what I got.

I arrived a little early, and sat at the bar to grab a drink while I waited. When he did arrive, we exchanged pleasantries and I asked how he’d been.

“Not good.” He said.

Guys, I don’t care how bad things are. You never tell a girl you’re going out with for the first time that things aren’t good. I’m not really good with other people’s emotions.

I was hoping he’d stop there, but he didn’t.

“I just got out of jail on Monday.” He added.

I started scouting the emergency exits.

“My ex got a restraining order, and I just couldn’t leave the bitch alone so she put me in jail for 25 days.”

What the fu-

It was like a bomb that just kept exploding. I should’ve left after he admitted to being a stalker, but to be honest I didn’t wanna do anything that was gonna set him off so I stayed.

I thought we would have one drink and call it a night. Homeboy made one beer last three hours. The entire time talking about how women are to blame for men having anger management issues, and that every guy he met in jail was there because of a woman.

Meanwhile, I’m just mainlining vodka hoping the night ends soon.

He finally finished half of his beer and decided he was done. I thought I was in the home stretch. Then he decides he wants to go for a walk. I suggest going just outside the bar (still in full view of the bartender).

We get outside the bar and he suddenly hugs me.

“I feel like you don’t wanna hug me.” He says. I tell him I’m just not a hugger, which is half true. But I was also internally screaming, “Yeah obviously I don’t wanna hug you you nut job.”

It lasted another hour after that. He whined the entire time, partially about how terrible women are, and partially about how many mosquitoes there were outside. Outside, where he insisted we go instead of staying in the bar….or just going home.

Finally, we said goodbye and he kissed me.

It was painful. Not physically, but painful as in it was clear that neither of us wanted it to happen. But it was happening, and it was super forced and super awkward.

We said we’d keep in touch. I blocked him on every possible social media avenue possible as soon as I got home.

I need to stop letting my friends play matchmaker.

Same Mistake

It seems like I always hear from the person I don’t want to hear from at exactly the time I don’t want to hear from them, and for whatever reason, it usually involves some sort of meme. I usually pride myself on my ability to let shit go, but for some unknown reason, this was one that I just couldn’t.

It happened a few months ago, I met a guy on tinder, and he asked me to dinner. I agreed to go, which broke my first rule of dating (never do a meal as a first date) and figured maybe I could steer the date into just drinks. After he asked me out I didn’t hear from him for a few days, so honestly, I was starting to think I was being catfished. I half expected to show up at the bar and have him just not show up.  He did, and I had a great time but he didn’t kiss me at the end of the date so I figured he probably wasn’t interested, which was fine, I was just gonna move on and keep on swiping.

I was more than a little surprised when he asked me to meet him again, but also glad because I had a good time with him which is rare on a first date. He had also found my tinder Instagram before we met up that first time and still wanted to meet me, so at the very least he had a sense of humor. Things were going well, or so I thought. I had decided to deactivate my dating apps, and I was getting really comfortable with the idea of regular sex and a drinking buddy.

Things started to look like they were going to get serious, I started telling my friends and family about him, and that’s when he broke things off with me. In a text, while I was at dinner with my mom with no real explanation as to why. I was pretty upset (like shed a tear in the restaurant upset….. and I didn’t even know I had tear ducts), but if he didn’t think things were going to work between us I wasn’t going to beg him to want to be with me. I kind of got the feeling he was looking for me to fight him on it, and the old me probably would have. But at this point, I’ve learned that 75% of the issues in my life could have been avoided if  I had just held the door open for the people who wanted to walk out of it rather than beg them to stay. So even though I was hurt and disappointed I just let it go.

As much as it sucked I wasn’t surprised. I had checked his tinder profile once or twice just because I was nosy and noticed that he had updated his profile. It was still pretty early on so I wasn’t going to bring it up until I had to, but since he ended things with me three days later it became a non-issue.

Of course, because I had told my friends and family about him I had to have obligatory “oh it didn’t work out I’m just gonna get a bunch of cats and die instead” conversation whenever they asked about it. They kept saying I would hear from him again but I didn’t really believe it or really want to to be honest. I deleted his number and any other semblance of him in my life, reactivated my tinder and slept with some 21 year old boy to numb my pain (because the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else right?).

Just when I started to forget about it I noticed him looking at my Instagram story for my tinder page. I was going to call him out about it, but my sister (and my voice of reason) told me to just block him and not think about it. So that’s what I did.

There were a few different times I almost reached out to him because something reminded me of him, but I refuse to be that person who doesn’t let go. Especially with someone, I didn’t know that well to begin with, and especially with someone who didn’t see how awesome I was. I made myself a promise a long time ago that I was never going to beg another person to give a shit about me ever again, and I won’t. After my last relationship ended I decided I was going to stop giving people so many chances. Mostly in relationships but I guess I should really carry that over to my friendships as well. 90% of the trauma that’s happened in my life could’ve been avoided if I hadn’t given the men I was with so many extra chances and opportunities to treat me like shit. It’s not that I’m punishing people in my present for the mistakes of my past, it a matter of knowing my own worth and expecting the people in my life to recognize it as well.

I had finally stopped thinking about him when I got laid off. The day I wrote my post about it I got a message on my personal Instagram. It was from him, and it was, of course, a meme because that’s what every guy uses to get to me when they really wanna get to me. I could’ve just ignored it, but someone pointed out that he had clearly read my blog post earlier in the day and that it wasn’t a coincidence, and I am clearly at a weak point in my life so instead it sent me into kind of a tailspin.

Even though the rational side of me knew that he didn’t somehow realize he made a mistake and he wasn’t making any sort of effort to rekindle anything with me I started overthinking it. I  started rethinking my whole no second chance thing, maybe if he was reaching out to try and start things again that I was being too harsh by not giving him a second chance. In reality, it was just a meme, not some gesture to try and get in touch with me again. I should’ve just blocked him and moved onIMG_3208, but obviously, my irrational ass didn’t do that. Fueled by tequila and a slight bit of rage,  I instead sent this message…. like two weeks later. I’m not even sure why I did it, it wasn’t going to change anything, In reality, he didn’t give a shit about me- and even if he did I know better than to spend any more time on someone who didn’t realize how great I was the first time around. If I can be completely honest though, even if I did sound kind of like a crazy person it actually did make me feel better.

I pride myself on taking all the bad things that happened to me and using them to make me better and not bitter, but somehow I feel like maybe I am being slightly bitter by completely cutting out the opportunities for second chances. Maybe it’s not about giving chances but about learning to recognize red flags and not make excuses for them. It doesn’t matter in this situation, that’s a dead issue, but I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life running from things because I’m afraid of wasting any more time or repeating the mistakes of my past.

Last Time

This morning, I woke up in a hotel room with someone I definitely shouldn’t have woken up next to. Let’s just say I now know how it feels to wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy.

It started a few months ago when we matched on Tinder. He was here on business, and I was in a five month dry-spell. We talked for a few days, eventually meeting in his hotel room to split a pizza and a bottle of vodka.

He was interesting, and he made me laugh. We had a lot in common, including a nasty divorce (or so I thought). I was actually kind of bummed he was leaving the next day. In normal circumstances I wouldn’t have hooked up with him, but he was leaving and I needed to end my dry spell.

The next day, his whole divorce story unraveled. I found out he was still married, which in hindsight I should have seen coming. I confronted him about it, and he gave me this big story about how terrible she was, and how he was trying to leave her but he didn’t want to lose his kid, and how she kept threatening to kill herself whenever he tried to leave.

The typical cheating guy narrative, I’ve heard it before. It’s the same narrative my ex-husband gave the multiple women he cheated on me with, and the same narrative a guy I had dated for a couple months gave me when I found out he was married as well.

Here’s the thing about men who cheat. Men don’t cheat because their wives or girlfriends are terrible or crazy, and they don’t cheat because you are something special.

Men cheat because of a problem with them.

No matter how bad any of my relationships ended up, I never cheated. I never even gave consideration to cheating. But just so we’re clear, I did act crazy when I was with my ex-husband. However, anyone would be crazy when an emotionally abusive, manipulative person was stealing all your money and not coming home for days. I knew he was cheating, long before I was ready to admit it to myself. I believe other women are the same way. So if that’s crazy, then I guess we’re crazy.

Also, kids are a bad reason to stay in a relationship that’s unhappy. Staying together for your kids just teaches your kids to do the same thing. It’s perpetuating the same behavior.

After I found out he was married, he asked me if we could still be friends. I said yes, but I thought it was one of those things where you say you’re going to do something because you know the chances of it ever actually coming up again are really slim to non-existent, and even if it did come up you didn’t have any intention of following through with it.

I heard from him every once in a while after that. I was pretty unfriendly, so I figured he’d get sick of me eventually. I hadn’t heard from him in a month or two when he reached out to me in April saying he was in town for business and wanted to meet for a drink to apologize for lying to me.

To be honest, I was deep into my health shit at the time so I was feeling a little vulnerable, and a lot angry. I figured it would be a good opportunity to tell him what a shit I thought he was to his face, so I agreed to meet with him.

Telling him off wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I thought it would be, in the end. He just took it because he knew it was wrong. Once I was done ripping him a new asshole, we actually had an okay time. He’s decent company if you can keep him at a distance and get over the fact that he’s kind of a scumbag. Nothing sexual between us, just two friends catching up over drinks. After that, I didn’t hear from him again. I actually started to forget about the whole thing.

Then he texted me Monday night. He was in the area for the night and invited to meet him for drinks. We’d had a decent time the last time I saw him, so I figured it would be good to get out of the house and talk to someone who didn’t have four legs and a tail.

I was also in the middle of having my 17th breakdown about WTF I should do with my life, now that this job didn’t work out. Obviously since I’m unemployed, I have an abundance of free time that I’m not used to having, and very little funds. I’ve actually had to reel myself in since losing my job, since I have been spending money like a Kardashian for the last 8 months.

I maybe went a little harder on the vodka than I should’ve, and the half bottle of champagne after didn’t help either. When I woke up the next morning I knew I was in a bed and I was afraid to open my eyes. The first thing I thought was “ok I’m in a bed, I really hope I didn’t drive last night“. The second thing was “I hope to God I’m in this bed alone“.

I wasn’t alone. However, nothing happened between us. We still had our clothes on.

When I started to remember where I was and how I got there, my massive hangover and I quickly made an exit. Even though nothing but sleeping happened, I feel pretty shitty about it. I’m thankful he didn’t let me drive home, but needless to say that friendship is over. It really never should have even started.

Men and women can absolutely be friends, they just probably shouldn’t be friends after one of them lies about being married.

Wrecking Ball

I lost my job last week.

The twist? I was okay with it, thankful even. I had reached a point in my career where the job I was doing made me so miserable, that I was just ready for it to be over. When it ended, I felt such a massive sense of relief. I no longer needed to go to a job that made me sad every day, and any fear I had about how I was going to pay my astronomical rent or what I was going to do next was pushed into the very back of my mind.

I had left a job that I loved, and moved my entire life an hour and a half away from everything I knew to take this job that was supposed to advance my career. It was supposed to be a job where I could learn more than what I had with my previous company where I had, unfortunately, hit my ceiling.

It was an opportunity and I had to at the very least try to advance myself, but like I said the job made me miserable. Every day, I got in my car, drove to work, and sat in the parking lot debating whether or not I should go inside and work, or turn around pack up my dogs and flee the country.

Fleeing the country always seemed way too dramatic. Also, I only ever had about $11 in my savings account, so going inside always won.

I don’t want to say anything bad about the company where I worked. They had their issues, but so does every company. They were good to me earlier this year when I was having health issues, and they gave me a chance to learn despite me having very little background in the field.

At the end of the day, not every job or company is going to be a good fit for a person. When I made the decision to take this job, I didn’t know what was going to happen. But, I said I had to try, and I did. I tried my ass off. I wouldn’t say I succeeded, but I wouldn’t say I failed either.

To be honest, I had been looking for another job anyway. I didn’t look that hard though, because I felt guilty about leaving. It sounds stupid to feel guilty leaving a job that I’m not happy with, but when it came down to it, they were good to me. I liked my bosses, and they were good people, and I did feel guilty for being so unhappy.

The company was decent enough to give me a good severance package, so while the irrational part of me is screaming to find myself a sugar daddy before I wind up living under a bridge somewhere, the more rational side of me knows that I’m going to be fine financially, at least for a little while until I figure out what my next step is.

I don’t know what’s next. I’ve always wanted to open my own bar, but that takes money and I don’t think that whole $11 dollars in my savings is going to get me far. I do love waitressing and bartending, but there are very few jobs that offer real benefits in restaurants and now that I’m an adult I understand the importance of things like vacation time and health insurance.

I also really want to do something working with special needs animals. After my own experience adopting a special needs animal, I want to help place “unadoptable” animals in the suitable homes, and educate people that these animals are worth any difficulties and special needs you may experience when choosing to take them home.

None of these seem like viable options for me, because I lack the money and experience. I don’t think either of these are things I can just pull out of my ass, either.

I’m thinking about moving, but I’m not sure where. I did consider packing up and moving to Florida a few months ago, but I’m not sure if that’s the right step for me either. I’ve always wanted to live there, and I had planned to go to college there, but I married an idiot instead.

I’ve had a tough time making new friends since I moved to where I live now, but at least the drive to see my friends from home was manageable. If  I moved to Florida, I’d have to fly home to see my friends and family. I would be totally alone, especially if I wasn’t able to make friends once I moved. On the other hand, I don’t see my home friends frequently anyway, so it doesn’t seem like a good reason to stay.

I love living where I am, but it seems silly to stay here since I no longer have the job I moved here for. Plus, if I do decide to continue working in finance, there isn’t much opportunity for someone like me here. Not to mention, if I live here and commute to where there are more opportunities, it would cost way to much money and take way to much time.

I decided to take the summer off and enjoy myself for once, but it’s only day four and I am climbing the walls. I have worked 40+ hours a week since graduating from high school, and even then I was working two jobs. I have never had this much free time before.

I have been trying to make it a point to get up early every day, and get outside and do things.  Otherwise, I’m sitting in my apartment in my ugly pajamas until I HAVE to leave the house, which I know I’ll fall into the habit of doing if I don’t force myself to get out every day.

I’m not complaining, though. I really love being at home and spending more time with my dogs. I like being able to sleep later than 5:30 AM. Coincidentally, my apartment complex finally opened our pool after two years, so I really LOVE being able to sit by the pool and relax.